


Atrocities of the past

by Ozpin_Lover_MP



Category: RWBY
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, implied past sexual assualt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 12:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozpin_Lover_MP/pseuds/Ozpin_Lover_MP
Summary: Because Port falls ill at the last minute, Ozpin has to accompany Doctor Oobleck on a history trip instead. This brings back some... unpleasant memories.





	Atrocities of the past

**Author's Note:**

> TW: medieval torture and past sexual assault. Sort of.

… 

Honestly, the castle steps hadn’t changed in 1000 years, Ozpin thought idly as Doctor Oobleck explained the significance of having them on the North side of the castle. 

They were on a school trip for second-year students, teaching them about the history of Falle-city, Vale’s original capital. Port was supposed to be the one accompanying Doctor Oobleck on this trip, but he had taken ill at the last minute, hence why Ozpin was here instead. 

As Doctor Oobleck talked about the castle, Ozpin couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to one thousand years ago… 

… 

Jack yawned as he sat on the castle steps. He was supposed to be meeting the king right now, but for some reason, the meeting had been delayed.

He fiddled with the string around one of the maps in his satchel. He would like to use this time to sharpen that spear for the baker on main-street, but he had paid someone to watch his cart whilst he visited the king. 

He didn’t particularly like this monarch much, truth be told, although Jack would obviously never say that out loud. This king made everyone pay huge taxes and then didn’t actually use said taxes to rebuild infrastructure. Barely ten meters from the palace steps, the road was already cracked and worn. Beyond that, there were giant flagstones missing, deep cracks from Grimm attacks and many uneven stones. It was practically impossible to travel in the city. 

Honestly, Jack wasn’t a huge fan of the monarchical system. He understood that it was just the way things were and that it would take a lot to change that, but in the back of his mind… Many many many years ago, lifetimes ago even, when he had been named Ozma, he had lived in a society with no monarchy. At least, not in Ozma’s home country. Instead, they had knights and aristocrats. Granted, that system had its own problems, but at least the power didn’t all lie with one person. Instead, a council of bickering idiots ran the country. At least one, kind, sensible, person could actually make a difference then.

Just then, a man in palace-guard uniform walked up to him. 

“The king will not see you today,” the guard informed him. 

Jack swallowed down his annoyance, and merely asked: “Is there a new time I could meet him?” 

The guard nodded. “You are too see him on the second hour of sunrise in two days time,” 

Jack internally groaned. He had wanted to leave the city before then. This wasn’t the only place that needed his help. 

In truth, that was why he was meeting the king. Jack traveled across the land, helping cities, towns, and villages in their defences against Grimm. Armed with knowledge of hundreds of years, Jack was confident that he could help. He also gathered information on Grimm’s movement as much as he could, enabling him to at least make rough predictions of where the next big Grimm attacks were likely to be. 

He had started out helping the small villages that he visited whilst travelling for his trade, but word had soon spread of his intelligence, and before he knew it he was meetings royalty and helping with major defences of the land. 

At least he had chosen to keep the name Jack in this life. Although it was odd not having a name that started with “O”, it had been the safer choice. There was less chance of Salem finding him this way. 

Jack stood up and stretched, before heading off to where he had left his cart. Two whole days? He couldn’t afford to waste that time here in the city. Maybe he could travel to Marshhollow, the next town, and then come back? It was only an hour or so’s walk away. 

Just as he reached the main square, Jack noticed a hubbub forming. There was a man with a scroll of parchment standing on a podium, and people crowding around him. 

“Hear ye, hear ye,” the man began, “I bring news from our royal king, may he live forever. The fair Queen, his beloved wife, has been kidnapped!”

There were gasps from the crowd. 

“If anyone has any information on her whereabouts, they are to come-forth immediately! And let it be known, if anyone hides information, or is working with the kidnappers, they shall experience a most unfortunate fate,” 

Well; that explained why the king was unavailable to meet him today, Jack pondered. He really should move onto the next town; they were in more danger. And in any case, if the queen wasn’t found, it was doubtful that he would even get to meet the king in two days time at all. Yes, better to move on and then come back. 

…

As it turned out, they weren’t going to visit the rest of the castle today. Instead, they were going to a local hotel, that was on the outskirts of a nearby ghost town. The ghost town had become quite the tourist attraction, due to the fact that it was in nearly perfect condition, and had never suffered a severe Grimm attack. 

Walking up to the edge of the town, Ozpin couldn’t help but remember when he had first discovered it. 

… 

Jack hadn’t expected the main street to be so completely deserted. There wasn’t a single soul in sight. 

Sighing, Jack dragged his cart over to what looked like an inn and rapped on the door. 

There was no answer. 

Jack turned the handle and then shouldered the door open. It sprang open with a clatter, and Jack fell on the floor. 

He got back up, dusted himself off, and walked towards a counter. 

“Hello?” he called out, “Anyone home?” 

There was no response.

Jack wondered and around the counter, looking for clues. It was bare. Not a single mug or utensil. 

Which in itself was odd; the downstairs of this bar was supposed to be a pub. Surely they needed mugs, plates, cutlery, and drinks? There was nothing here other than a whole lot of dust. 

Jack turned and walked to the other side o the room, and went up some stairs. At least there was a hall and… yes, there were lots of rooms. Bare rooms, but at least it would provide shelter for him for the night. 

… 

 

After signing it at the hotel and putting their bags in their rooms, the group went to explore this old haunted mansion. 

Again, Ozpin thought that it hadn’t changed in over a thousand years.

The creepy hallway was the same. The stairs were the same. It was when they got to the attic that Ozpin was really shocked though. The chair that he had knocked over was still overturned! It was sitting in the exact place it had fallen!   
And, oh dear… Was that blood on the floor? 

…

Jack coughed as he walked into the tenth house, checking for people. He wasn’t expecting to find anyone at this point. Although this house was the biggest, and hence the creepiest house in town. If there was anyone alive, it would be in here. 

“Hello?” Jack called up the stairs. His voice echoed through the empty halls. 

He tried again, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

A few cobwebs wobbled on the ceiling, but that was all the response he got. Jack turned to leave, but suddenly there was a _Creak!_ from upstairs. This was an old building. It was probably just the wind or something…. 

There was another creak. And… a dull thud? 

Cautiously, Jack walked up the stairs. Nothing. Just a second story with old empty bookshelves and statues. But at the end of the hallway, there were more stairs. They lead up to an attic. 

Jack stealthily crept up the stairs and stopped at the attic door. He pressed an ear to it. There was a muffled… wailing? Like someone calling for help? 

Jack slowly opened the door. He stood there in shock. 

At the other end of the room, another man, messily shaven and wearing bloodstained overalls, was wiping a knife. 

In between them, a woman with an exquisite gown and elegant hair was tied to a chair and gagged. 

Jack immediately grabbed his cane from his belt and sprang at the man. He didn’t know what was going on, but from the looks of it, the creepy guy was about to murder the woman. 

They fought. It was a small confined space, without enough room to properly swing his cane, but Jack still managed to knock the knife out of the man’s hand. The man retaliated by trying to throw a punch, so Jack ducked, and tapped into his semblance. The world seemed to slow, and the man left an after image as he stumbled, trying to regain his balance. Jack swung around him and slammed the back of his foot into the man’s behind. He then brought his cane down on the man’s head, knocking him out cold. 

“Are you alright?” Jack gently asked the woman, un-gagging her and working to untie the rope. 

“Ye-yes,” The woman said shakily, “He didn’t hurt me - thank goodness- I - I-” the woman then burst into tears. 

Jack gently patted her on the shoulder. “Can you stand?” he asked softly, “We should get out of here,”

With Jack’s help, the woman stood up, and together they left the attic. 

…

When they finally got back to the hotel, Ozpin and Bartholomew were met with a sheepish looking clerk. 

“I’m terribly sorry,” The clerk began, “But there was a mix-up with the bookings and two of your rooms has been double booked,”

“Which rooms?” Ozpin asked, covering up his annoyance. 

“The two singles,” 

“Could we rent out two double rooms instead?” Bartholomew asked. 

The clerk shook his head. “I’m terribly sorry, but there is only one double room left,” 

Bartholomew and Ozpin glanced at each, shrugging. They were adults and close friends. They could deal with sharing a bed for one night. 

“We’ll take it,” Ozpin decided. 

… 

It turned out that the woman that Jack had rescued was the missing Queen. 

They decided to spend the night in the ghost town since the Queen was weak and tired and would need rest before they returned to the castle the next day.

As for the kidnapper, Jack had tied him to a beam in the attack and locked him in with enough food and water for several days. He would tell the king where the kidnapper was and some guards could deal with him. Although Jack didn’t envy his fate, he knew it wasn’t any of his business to go around doling out retribution. 

… 

Okay, maybe sharing a room hadn’t been such a good idea, Ozpin thought, as he tried to not to hyperventilate. 

It was okay, it had just been a nightmare. A very old nightmare. 

Gah, at this rate he was going to wake Barty up- it was too late. Bartholomew sat up as well. 

“What’s wrong?” Bartholomew asked softly. 

“Nightmare,” Ozpin choked out, “it’s okay you can go back to sleep,” 

“Can I hug you?” Bartholomew asked tentatively. 

Ozpin nodded through his tears. 

Bartholomew gently wrapped him in a hug, and Ozpin turned to cry onto his shoulder. Bartholomew then shifted so that they were both lying down again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bartholomew asked. 

Ozpin shrugged. “I- I don’t want to scare you- it’s pretty horrific-“ 

Bartholomew ran a hand through Ozpin’s hair. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, “You won’t scare me. And if you do then it will be worth it to comfort you,” 

Ozpin choked back another sob. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?” 

“Alphabetically or chronologically?” Bartholomew joked. 

That got a short laugh out of Ozpin. 

“I- about a thousand years ago- my name was Jack…” Ozpin started. He then proceeded to talk about how he had been to this town before and rescued the queen. 

“What happened next?” Bartholomew asked softly. 

“The king…” Ozpin’s lip wobbled, “he- he didn’t believe me!” 

Bartholomew silently, held Ozpin, allowing him to continue. 

“When I took the Queen back to the palace- I thought- I thought I might get a reward - but he thought that- I was the one who had kidnapped the Queen- and he accused me of raping her!” Ozpin explained. 

“Oh no!” Bartholomew breathed. He paused for a moment, “This wasn’t King Torec the third, was it?” 

Ozpin nodded. Bartholomew held him tighter. He knew about Torec the third. He was a tyrant, a madman, who had had his wife beheaded for adultery. 

“They threw me in the dungeon,” Ozpin eventually managed. “There was a small window, barred of course, but out of it- I could see- I saw- the Queen - she was executed. The blood- there was so much blood-“ he broke into more tears. 

“That’s awful,” Bartholomew breathed. 

“And then- then- the next day- I- it was my turn,” Ozpin barely whispered. 

“They beheaded you?” Bartholomew asked, horrified. 

Ozpin shook his head. “That was for women. For the men who committed treason…” 

“No…” Bartholomew whispered. He was a history teacher. He knew what happened to men who committed treason back then. It was horrific - unimaginably painful- “you were hanged, drawn and quartered?” 

Ozpin nodded. 

Bartholomew felt tears rise in his own eyes. That was the most horrific punishment ever invented in history. 

“They took my clothes first,” Ozpin recounted, “everything. Then they attached me to a horse, and had it drag me to the town square- there were so many people- yelling and throwing stones-“ 

“and then they hung you?” Bartholomew asked quietly.

Ozpin shook his head. “For me- because of what they thought I’d done- they- they changed the order of things-“ 

Bartholomew could do nought but listen, and gently rub Ozpin’s back, offering his silent support. 

Ozpin was full on sobbing now and struggling to get the words out. “They- the executioner- in front of everyone- he- he touched me- he assaulted me- right there- he said -said it was to make it easier to-“ 

“Oh, Oz-“ Bartholomew whispered, “that’s horrible,” 

“And then he took a knife- and he said - as punishment- “ Ozpin couldn’t bring himself to explain. He just sobbed onto Bartholomew’s shoulder. But it was enough. Bartholomew understood. 

“He castrated you,” Bartholomew guessed. 

Ozpin nodded, confirming his fears. “It hurt- it hurt so much- I can’t put into words how much pain I was in- and then- I passed out. Next thing I knew they were splashing my face with cold water so that I would be alive to feel them hang me- and then quarter me-“ he finished. 

Bartholomew held Ozpin close, also crying. It was one thing to learn about medieval torture, but it was quite another to realise that your best friend had been through that. 

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Ozpin whispered. 

“Not at all,” Bartholomew replied, “I’d- I’d rather know- although now I want to create a time machine and kill Torec,” 

“You were beaten to it,” Ozpin replied. 

“Hm?”

“Torec’s death was an assassination. One of my then friends killed him themselves in fact,” 

At any other time, Bartholomew would have been fascinated. Not much was known about Torec’s death. But right now… he couldn’t care less. Someone had hurt his friend, and he would do anything to ease the pain. 

“You’re safe now,” was all Bartholomew could mumble, “Torture was outlawed long ago. You’re safe,” 

Ozpin nodded. “I know- I’m sorry I’m overreacting- it was just a nightmare- I’ve had over a thousand years to get over it-“ 

“You are not overreacting!” Bartholomew rebuked, “What happened to you was horrifying! One of the worst things that can happen to a person! I can’t imagine how traumatic- it’s frankly incredible that you decided to come on this history trip and didn’t have a meltdown until now!” 

“I shouldn’t have come- I’m sorry-“ Ozpin whispered.

Bartholomew shushed him. “You don’t have to apologise for things that aren’t your fault. You’re only here because you had to come because Port got ill. It wasn’t your choice. And don’t you dare say it was your fault what Torec did to you,” 

“Thank you,” Ozpin whispered, as he shook, “I- thank you-“ 

“You’re safe now- feel free to wake me if you have any more nightmares,” 

Ozpin started to protest, but Bartholomew shook his head. “Making sure you’re alright is much more important than sleep. Sleep is overrated anyway. In any case, we don’t have much to do tomorrow- we’re just exploring the castle and then going back to Beacon,” 

They lay there in silence for a few moments. 

“You know-“ Bartholomew ventured, “I think there are several students that would be very un-keen on visiting the dungeon tomorrow. What if we split up? You could take those who don’t want to learn about medieval torture to the gardens or something,” 

“Is that your way of keeping me out of the dungeons?” Ozpin asked softly. 

“Yes.” Bartholomew gently kissed Ozpin on the head, “If you want to come to the dungeons that’s fine too- I just thought you might like the option not to,” 

“I- I’d like that,” Ozpin whispered back. “Thank you,”


End file.
